


Haunting Memories

by dk323



Series: Eternal Soulmate [2]
Category: Forever (TV)
Genre: M/M, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-01
Updated: 2016-08-06
Packaged: 2018-04-29 07:47:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5120564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dk323/pseuds/dk323
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Four months after reuniting with Henry, James is haunted by memories of his past life. One particular memory causes him to reconsider being with Henry.<br/>Will James have the courage to reveal the truth to him?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Birthday

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Halloween! I decided to post this first part of the story. I wanted to begin putting this up by the end of October. I have another story I'm working on with a deadline. But I do have a plan for this story (and a third installment for this fic universe if all goes well). I hope to have the next chapter up by the end of November. Maybe sooner, depends on how progress goes.
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Thanks to [Alobear](http://alobear.livejournal.com) for the story banner!
> 
>  

James smiled as he felt Henry’s lips on his bare shoulder.

“Stay, it’s a Saturday,” Henry murmured.

Henry’s voice was low and coaxing, and James couldn’t help but be taken in by it. He turned around to face Henry and put his hand on his face before he kissed him. Henry reciprocated, the pressure soft and familiar.

He let Henry maneuver him so that James was below him on the bed. He kissed Henry again, his lips feeling a bit wet as he’d just licked them. James tasted a little cinnamon too as his tongue slipped inside Henry’s mouth.

After a few minutes, they parted, both breathing hard but James felt as blissfully happy as Henry looked.

James settled back beside Henry, Henry grasped his hand in his own.

“It’s my birthday today.” James announced.

He smiled, unable not to as he saw how relaxed Henry was, genuinely smiling back at James. They’d been together four months following their first meeting.

James tried his best to forget about the incident with his abductor, but some days it was hard not to let the fear sneak in. Being with Henry helped, and not seeing the man these last few months was a great relief.

“Even better reason to stay,” said Henry. “In this life?” Though he asked, James could tell it was a perfunctory question.

James knew that Henry knew. After all, it was hard to forget that he’d died only a week before his birthday in his past life.

“I’m sorry, James,” Henry said quickly.

“Can’t change the past. At least in this life I have a second chance.”

“Yes, you’re right. And I’ll make sure you don’t miss anything.”

“I’ve been curious about seeing Antarctica.”

“Is that so?”

“I don’t know. Are you interested?” His green eyes twinkled as he looked at him mischievously.

“We’ll see. One day at a time. How old are you now?”

“I’ll be 36.”

“We’ll have to celebrate tonight.”

“My sister wants to see me this afternoon for my birthday. Avery is helping to make the birthday cake. Apparently. It’d be nice if you and Abe could come.”

“I’d love to. I’m sure Abe would too.”

“I think we should get up. No matter how tempting it is to stay here with you.”

“Yes, of course,” Henry said though it was reluctant. “We can always return here later, to celebrate further.”

James smiled. “Skip dinner, and just come back here. That would be a perfect end to the day,” he suggested. He kissed Henry briefly on the lips before climbing out of bed.

James could feel Henry’s eyes on him, most likely admiring the view. He was intentionally slow to put his clothes on to let Henry have his fill.

“Liking what you see?” James teased.

“Hmm, that light blue shirt looks good on you,” Henry said distractedly.

James’s mind returned to the past, recalling his childhood friend, Ollie, from his past life. It was his 19th birthday and the year was 1889.

_Ollie’s family was well off and they had free reign over his house, castle – James remembered thinking of it that way - while his friend's parents were away._

_Drunk and feeling invincible they explored the house and thought up as many lewd jokes as they could._

_“You know, that damnable shirt looks better off you,” Ollie said as he lay flat on the floor of the drawing room, pillows cushioning their heads._

_“I like this shirt.” James retorted._

_“You don’t. Fool,” he remarked, grinning at him. Ollie reached over and patted James’ head. Ollie laughed. “Why are there horses galloping in here? They’re blue too.”_

_“Maybe you’re having a waking dream?”_

_“No, they’re really here. And they’re staring at us.”_

_“Then close your eyes.” James said. “How many drinks did you have?”_

_“Why are snakes attacking your head?” Ollie only said, still with his hand on James’s head despite his belief._

_“I guess the answer to that is too much.”_

_“Off, please,” Ollie persisted, moving to unbutton James’ dress shirt._

_“I’m going to hit you over the head soon if you don’t behave.”_

_“Please do,” he said, not looking to take James seriously. “I got to tell you something good, Jamesy—I got two tickets…for your special birthday. You get to see where I look…at books? And the girls…they all love me.”_

_“Doubt that,” James shot back before fully realizing what he was saying. “What? No! Oliver, no. I don’t want to see Oxford. I get terrible seasickness. This is an awful idea.”_

_“No, Oxford’s brilliant. You’ll love it. You’re my best friend. I want you to come,” Ollie insisted._

_“Then if it’s awful, I can blame you,” James decided, feeling sleepy as alcohol always seemed to do to him._

_“It won’t be awful. I know some fun endeavors we can partake in…”_

_James couldn’t stop from yawning as he watched Ollie’s hand slip underneath his shirt._

_“You’re ridiculous,” James murmured, shifting his gaze to stare up at the ceiling._

_The grandfather clock outside the room rang loud then, and Ollie cried out in surprise, nearly jumping to his feet._

_James smiled, amused, and laughed into his pillow. His friend swore that he would get his revenge on that clock one day._

“James? Are you okay?” Henry asked him. “You looked like you were somewhere else.”

James smiled. “I was only remembering an old friend of mine, from my past life. Sometimes it’s hard to accept that people I used to know are long dead now.” He looked down, sadness coming over him.

“I’ve felt the same way many times,” Henry sympathized. He squeezed James’ shoulder to show his understanding. “What was your friend’s name?”

“Oliver, but most everyone else just called him Ollie.”

“I don’t recall you talking about him back then.”

James shrugged. “He went to Oxford, and found his soulmate there. It was hard for us to keep in touch after that. He had his own life, I had mine.”

“James, I’m sorry to hear that.” Henry said.

James turned around to see that Henry had gotten dressed. Well, mostly, as only the bottom half of his shirt was buttoned, the rest undone. Probably had noticed James quiet and stopped midway in concern. He sighed, putting his hand on Henry’s chest, still deep in his thoughts as he buttoned up the rest of Henry’s dress shirt.

“Not much could be done about it. I never even…,” James stopped, then took a deep breath, exhaling, and he said, “I never told him I was ill, and that I was dying. I could have sent him a letter, but I didn’t want to trouble him. I’m not sure someone from my family let Ollie know.”

“I wish I could tell you if they did,” Henry told him, sounding apologetic.

He reached out to him, placing a hand on James’ face. He kissed him softly on the lips.

Henry proceeded to press kisses along his neck and collar bone. James moaned.

“We’re going to have trouble leaving this room, aren’t we?” James decided.

Henry smiled, and led them to the wall, positioning James against it. James, though, made a quick move and put Henry in his previous position.

“Need only ask,” Henry said.

“Sort of loses the spontaneity,” James countered, grinning at him.

He kissed Henry deeply, a little rough as he accidentally bit Henry’s bottom lip. “Sorry,” James breathed out in a whisper.

“Don’t apologize,” Henry said back, smiling. He lifted his hand to James’ hair, fingers coursing through the curls, urging James even closer to him.

Henry began to unbutton James’ shirt. “Just five minutes?” He was able to say, his voice low and husky, when James took a moment to breathe.

“Can’t say no to that.”

“Happy Birthday, James,” Henry said as he laid James back down on to the bed.

~ * ~

The effort had been slow, but they did climb out of bed however reluctantly. James’s cell was ringing with birthday messages.

“You take a shower. My mother will want me to call her.”

“Of course,” said Henry with a smile.

Still he pulled James in for a kiss. Henry’s hand was on the back on his head, and James felt his fingers gripping his curled hair.

James stepped back, heels hitting the doorjamb to the bathroom. He couldn’t stop from gasping at the suddenness of the action. Henry’s lips were on his mouth, and then went down to his neck. James could feel the heat coming off of Henry.

“Henry, you’re --making – this --harder,” he managed to get out as he tried to get his breath back.

“For before,” Henry said, referring to James’s previous act of spontaneity.

He grinned at him, the smile lighting up his eyes. It was an expression James loved to see on him.

“You make me happy,” Henry told him before he retreated to the bathroom.

James touched his neck, feeling a small break there. Looking at the mirror, James saw that Henry had left him a hickey.

He shook his head, chuckling.

Taking his cellphone with him, James went to the kitchen.

He saw something on the kitchen table that wasn’t there the night before.

It was a photo of his past life’s gravesite. James had been there in February. He hadn’t taken it, feeling odd about doing that. Like he would be encroaching on the dead man’s peace by flashing a camera at the site.

But he knew who had left this picture. It was something he hadn’t told Henry about. He knew he would have to eventually, but James had to find the right time.

He turned over the photo to find a note saying:

**_“Stephen,_ **

**_I think I found a cure. I’ll see you at the usual time._ **

**_Happy Birthday._ **

**_C_ **

**_I apologize.”_ **

James smiled. Well, at least there was acknowledgement of the irony of a grave photo with wishes for a happy birthday. James was used to it after all these years.

He sighed, recalling that cold day in February when he decided to visit James Carter’s grave. It had been a year since he’d remembered his past life. And it’d been before he’d reunited with Henry.

_“I couldn’t have picked a better day to come,” he said, smiling a little, feeling somewhat foolish for choosing such a cold day. But he was here, and that’s what mattered. The chill didn’t bother him as much as it should have. He was intent on getting out what he wanted to say to this long dead man, a man who he once was._

_“I found out I had latent tuberculosis a few months ago. I’m taking medication for it. Just for nine months. I wish you had had the same opportunity. But we can’t choose what time we’re born into. I’m sorry.”_

_He took a deep breath, his breath visible as a puff of white smoke in the near freezing winter air._

_“I don’t know how you did it. Knowing what you knew about Henry and still making the best of it, acting like everything was all right. But it wasn’t, not completely.”_

_He stood there in silence for a few long moments. His hands despite being covered in gloves were beginning to feel numb._

_“I don’t know if I could be as courageous as you, but I can try. I haven’t seen Henry yet. I don’t know how he’ll react, or if it’s really Henry…”_

His phone started ringing, startling James out of his thoughts.

As he answered the call from his mother, James went into his living room.

He settled on a photo album on the bookcase. He slipped the photo behind an old picture of Charlotte holding Avery as a baby. James had taken the photo. It wasn’t the best solution as Henry was very observant. He’d always known that all the way back to his past life. That certainly hadn’t changed. Henry could easily take the opportunity to look through the small photo album.

But for now, it would have to do. Besides, if Henry found the photo, it would be the push James needed to tell him about who’d given it to him and written that note.

~ * ~

At Charlotte’s apartment, Henry smiled as he watched James with his sister and nephew. Avery hugged his uncle, wishing him a Happy Birthday.

When he’d known James the first time around, he never had the chance to meet James’s family, not like this.

Of course there had been the occasional family gathering. James, undoubtedly feeling sorry for Henry leading a solitary and seemingly lonely life, extended an invitation for him to come.

But it wasn’t the same simply being a work colleague, even if they had been good friends.

Now they were together, and able to show it. Henry had never been romantically involved with James over a century ago, and he was grateful for that. After all, the social norms of the early 20th century would have put an unpleasant strain on their relationship as they tried to keep it a secret.

That made seeing James again in this day and age all the more sweeter. Because they had their chance now in a time where two men being together wouldn’t leave them shunned by everyone they knew. They could be happier now, more optimistic about their future together.

And James was his soulmate. If this was the ending to his story, Henry thought, he couldn’t have written a better one.

Henry was startled when Charlotte introduced him to Avery.

“This is Uncle Stephen’s significant other. He’s his soulmate.”

“Really?”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Avery.”

“Hi,” said Avery, looking uncertain. “You sound British.”

Henry bent down so he was eye level with the boy. “That I do. I’ve lived here for years, but the accent remains.”

He smiled at him.

Avery returned the smile though it was a shy one. “That’s cool. No wizarding world there, right?”

He sounded disappointed about the prospect of that world not existing.

“No, I’m afraid not. Rather unfortunate, I’d have to say.” Henry told him, trying to appeal to him.

It worked as Avery grinned, appearing happy that someone else agreed with him.

He noticed James bite his lip. He looked to his sister.

“Charlotte,” James said with a long sigh.

While Charlotte knew about them being soulmates, Henry was aware that James hadn’t told his parents yet. Besides that he’d become friends with Henry and now they spent time together. Henry figured if James’s parents were perceptive enough, they would realize what was really going on.

James’s mother and father were presently on a Mediterranean cruise and wouldn’t be back until next week. Henry knew he would be meeting them eventually, and he was admittedly anxious to do so. But he had faith that it would go smoothly.

And Avery…after four months, this was the first time Henry had met James’s young nephew.

“Yes, Stephen?” She said. Her look was one of practiced innocence.

“Nothing,” he relented.

If Avery knew, then Henry could foresee him telling James’s parents. Children weren’t the best secret keepers. No wonder James was not too happy with Charlotte’s introduction.

Henry patted his shoulder. “Don’t worry about it, Stephen. Sometimes it’s better for the truth to come out sooner. I will be seeing a lot of your family after all.”

“Thanks,” he said, smiling a little, looking reassured. “Well after your mom’s big introduction, I’m not sure what else can beat that. Do you, Avery?”

“I think we should eat cake first,” Avery decided.

“I’m not sure we can get away with it.”

“But it’s your birthday. You should if you want to.”

Avery pulled him by the hand. “You have to see the cake.”

“I hope Abe comes soon. I doubt the cake will still be here in a few minutes.” Charlotte joked with Henry.

Henry assured her. “He should be here momentarily. The cake will survive.”

~ * ~

Abe came a few moments later. For Avery’s sake, he introduced himself as Henry’s roommate, and business partner with Henry’s father. Avery took to him easily, probably seeing him as a grandfather-figure Henry imagined.

As they settled down to eat, Charlotte spoke up, “Henry, did James tell you about the day he was born?”

“Grandma tells the story all the time,” Avery put in matter-of-factly.

Henry shook his head. “No, he did not.”

He turned to James who shrugged. “There’s not much to say.”

Though Henry could tell from his voice that he was downplaying the tale.

“It sounds like a good story,” said Abe. “I’d love to hear it.”

“Oh it’s definitely one that has to be told. There’s no better time than now to fill you two in,” Charlotte said.

Henry was intrigued. “What’s the story?”

“My great-grandmother Mary, the one who was on the Titanic, passed away the day I was born,” James began.

His sister continued, “Our mom decided to give birth at home. Mary was bed-bound, and things were looking very bleak. Mom wanted to make sure her grandmother got the chance to see her great-grandson.”

“How thoughtful of her,” Abe said.

“And her plan worked out?” Henry asked.

Charlotte nodded. “I think we have a photo too of Mary holding James. It’s at mom and dad’s though.”

“Of course my mom went to the hospital afterwards to get me checked out. But I’ll always have the story that I was born at home. That made me feel, you know, a little unique. Just after hearing all my friends say they were born in the hospital.”

“Meanwhile, I was born in a boring hospital,” Charlotte said with a long sigh.

“Curse of the second child.” James shot back, lips twisting into a smile.

“Touché.”

James’s nephew giggled.

~ * ~

Henry waited outside as Charlotte had wanted to speak to James privately.

“Do you want a ride back, Henry?” Abe asked.

“No, I could wait for James. You can go, Abraham. I’ll be fine.”

“Okay.” Abe patted him on the shoulder. “I’m glad I was invited to come.”

“Of course you would be invited. James knows you’re my son, how important you are to me. He wants you to be a part of his life too.”

“I’m glad you found him, Henry. You’re happier than you’ve been in a while. The change suits you.”

Henry nodded and smiled. “Thank you. I would have to agree.”

After watching his son drive off, Henry walked to James’s car, sitting in the front passenger seat.

Less than ten minutes later, James came, climbing inside his car. He appeared tense and a little peaky too.

“James, are you all right? You look a bit unwell. What did you speak to Charlotte about?”

James gave him a quick smile. “It was nothing. I don’t want to talk about it.”

He started up the engine, lips pressed thin, and looking to be defiant of whatever was coming over him.

“James, something is wrong. You’re stressed, aren’t you? You’re exhibiting symptoms. The echo from the past, I remember. Don’t pretend with me. You know I’ve seen you like this before.”

“Henry, please.”

He hadn’t shifted to gear into drive. Henry was glad as James shouldn’t be driving in this state.

He was growing pale now.

Then James coughed loudly. It sounded painful to Henry.

He quickly gave him a tissue from the box in the compartment below the gears.

James took it gratefully. He coughed into the tissue. Henry didn’t miss the specks of blood on the tissue that James tried to hide from him by balling it up in his hand.

“I’m fine. It’ll pass. It always passes.” James said, sounding determined.

“Perhaps I should drive?”

James turned off the ignition, the car quieter now. He gave Henry an incredulous look.

“Abe made the point very clear to me that you shouldn’t drive. Something about a car accident a few decades ago that even Abe wasn’t willing to rehash to me. Care to tell me?”

Henry frowned. “Not particularly, no. My driver’s license is expired, I believe. So yes, it may be best I not drive.”

James chuckled, a crackly-sounding cough coming afterwards.

Henry leaned toward James. “I could help your symptoms end quicker. At least try.”

James looked at him with interest. “How’s that?”

Without another word, Henry kissed him on the mouth, feeling the fever, the heat of it permeating from James. He put his hand on his cheek and kissed him down his neck.

James sighed, a small guttural sound came as Henry went past the sensitive area where he’d left the hickey earlier. James had covered it up with makeup his sister had gifted him as a joke the previous Christmas.

“I think you’ve found a worthy remedy.”

“Glad to be of service,” Henry said, smiling.

He was pleased when he felt James’s skin cool, returning to a more acceptable body temperature. The color returned to his face, and the coughing ceased.

“What did your sister tell you, James? It looks to have unsettled you.”

“I’m sorry, Henry. Charlotte told me something that caught me off-guard. I don’t want to talk about it now. I will tell you one day I promise.”

Henry decided to let the matter go for now. After all, if he wasn’t ready to tell James about the car accident, then he shouldn’t force James to confide in him.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~


	2. Secrets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story has been completed thanks to the [WIP Big Bang 2016](http://wipbigbang.livejournal.com) challenge. These final two chapters are a result of participating in this challenge, which motivated me to finish this story I began last September.
> 
> Thank you to my artist [Alobear](http://alobear.livejournal.com) for the pretty story banner!  
> 

Once they returned to James’s place, James looked to Henry.

“Well, we have a few hours until dinner.”

“Yes we do. You know I can’t let this go unexplained for long, James. I never like it when I see you exhibit symptoms… it always brings me back to the past. And we both know how that ended.”

His death. James had to admit he felt similarly every time he battled those unnerving symptoms. Despite dealing with them multiple times and feeling perfectly fine afterwards, a small anxious part of him made him wonder if this time it wouldn’t pass.

That one day, the symptoms would become real and no amount of meds would help him.

What if in any life, he would be cursed to die of the same illness. It was certainly the last thing he wanted to have in common with his past self. And he couldn’t bear to do that to Henry. Not again.

Yet for now, he had no solution for these phantom symptoms. He could only hope they weren’t signs of something worse to come.

James sighed. “I feel the same, Henry. I wish I could give you a better answer. But I have none. I can only hope the medication I took for the latent TB will keep the active type away as it’s meant to.”

“I agree.” Henry said. “I know you don’t want to think about this on your birthday.”

“It’s fine, Henry. The last thing I wanted was to start coughing up blood today. But I just have to accept that it’ll happen.”

“Are you and your sister all right? You said Charlotte caught you off-guard with something.”

James smiled quickly at him to reassure him. He sat down on the couch. Henry sat beside him, grasping his hand.

“We’re good. She was apologetic for upsetting me, but considering it now, she was doing it out of concern. I can’t begrudge her that. I had to reassure her.”

“But you won’t tell me.”

James shook his head. “It’s… complicated,” he told him.

He knew nothing but what his sister told him would appease Henry.

Although with Henry being who he was – more observant than anyone James knew – he wouldn’t be surprised if he’d figure it out on his own. Especially as they continued to spend time together.

James’s mind went back to his talk with his sister. What she has told him, what she had hoped he would confirm.

If Charlotte could discover his secret, one he had long thought he’d kept hidden, then who else knew?

“James, I’ve seen a ghost talking to you,” she had told him.

He’d thought he was imagining the words. That this wasn’t happening. He decided to tell her the truth. He couldn’t lie to his own sister.

The sun was just beginning to rise when an 8-year-old James had first encountered a ghost.

It was long before he had discovered he was an incarnation. When he still saw himself as Stephen. When he didn’t know his middle name – James – meant more than simply being the name of his paternal grandfather.

He hadn’t known then that it would be the first of many meetings with the supernatural spirit.

_He knew he should be afraid, but he wasn’t. He was transparent as Stephen had expected based on what he’d seen in movies and shows. But he wasn’t black, white and grey. He did have color so he could see the color of his skin as if he were still alive. And he had brown curled hair and deep brown eyes._

_He looked about his dad’s age, in his thirties, but he was wearing a strange outfit. It was a white doctor’s uniform from the early 20th century. He’d only recognized it because a book had drawn his attention recently. The book contained old black and white photos of early 20th century outfits and information about different professions during that time. He hadn’t understood his interest for the subject matter, but he’d looked through the book all the same._

_Upon seeing this ghost now, he wondered if it wasn’t coincidental finding that book._

_Also, there was something familiar about the man. Reassuring._

_“Who are you?”_

_“Hello,” the ghost said._

_He took a chair from the desk, Stephen tracking his movement trying to make sense of this unexpected visitor._

_The ghost put the chair beside his bed and sat down on it._

_Then he answered Stephen’s question. “You can call me Carter. I wanted to meet you properly.”_

_“Properly?”_

_“I’ve watched over you since the day you were born, Stephen. That may sound unsettling, and I apologize, but that’s the truth. I want you to know that I’m here to help you, if you should ever need it.”_

_“I thought ghosts scare people and moan and wail in despair… but you seem okay…”_

_“There are ghosts like that, but not all of them are. Just as with the living – not all act the same way.”_

_“My tattoo has the word Carter in it… do you know anything about that?”_

_“One day you will understand.”_

_“So you know why. I don’t like secrets.” He said petulantly._

_“I know. I don’t either. How about a compromise? I’ll be your secret, all right?”_

_“No one would believe me if I told them. I might just be having a weird dream. I was sleeping after all.” He said, sounding dismissive._

_Carter knelt down in front of him, putting his hands – especially cold even through his pajamas – on Stephen’s shoulders._

_“You’re not having a dream.”_

_He said it in such a firm, unyielding voice that Stephen wholeheartedly believed him. Feeling the cold permeating from the ghost gave him further proof._

_Stephen nodded, saying nothing, as shock came over him. His mind tried to accept this event, something he never thought would be real. Ghosts were only seen in movies, right? They were fictional beings…_

_Now, Stephen couldn’t believe that anymore._

_Carter kissed him on the top of the head, and then after a goodbye, he vanished._

_When Carter returned the following night, and the one after that, Stephen accepted his new reality._

_He saw him as a mentor, a sort of uncle, maybe, that he hadn’t known he needed. But he grew used to his presence, and was grateful to have him in his life._

_Even if Carter had to remain a secret._

~ * ~

James had a difficult time sleeping that night. He knew that Carter would visit, and he wasn’t sure if Henry would stay asleep when he climbed out of bed. Sometimes Henry could be a particularly light sleeper.

But this could not be avoided. He had to see the ghost of his past life. Especially if he had the cure.

He looked over at Henry, sighing as he stood up, deciding to leave the room.

He shut the door as quietly as he could. In the living room, he found Carter looking through the photo album he’d stuck his note in.

“It’s an odd choice to put the picture of my grave with that photo of your sister and nephew.”

James winced, feeling put out at getting caught at the unfortunate combination. A picture of death versus one where life was just beginning so close to one another seemed sort of taboo. He should have found a random book and hidden it away there.

“I was hoping you wouldn’t see that.” James said in resignation. The ghost of his past life could be just as observant as Henry sometimes.

“I couldn’t miss it.”

“How are you?”

Carter shrugged. “Still dead.”

“I guess I was inviting that sort of response.”

After giving him a small smile that didn’t reach his eyes, Carter procured a vial. “On that hopeful note, I do have the cure. I admit I’m not fully sure it will work.”

James was suspicious. “And why is that?”

“There haven’t been any others as far as I’m aware who are suffering from these phantom symptoms of tuberculosis. Other diseases, yes, but not that one. And from what I’ve learned, each disease requires a specific antidote. So I tried my best to make this potion the right way, and I hope it will succeed.”

“I’m the guinea pig then? I don’t know, Carter. Maybe I should wait.”

“It’s best not to. At any time, your symptoms will become real and not even modern treatment would save you. Fate, cruel as it may be at times, will end your life the same way it did in your past life. You’ll die how I died.”

“You do realize my birthday was yesterday, right?”

“That’s why I came to provide you the cure. There may be some side effects as with any medication, but the effects are only temporary.”

“Great,” James said drily. He decided to take the antidote despite still having some reservations. With the chance that he could stop these symptoms for good, he couldn’t resist.

Carter watched him as he downed the antidote.

After he had finished, James had expected to feel ill but there was nothing. He felt perfectly okay.

“How are you feeling?”

“Never better. I guess the real test would be seeing if the symptoms return when they usually do.”

“Yes.”

“I should get back to bed. Thank you, Carter. I really appreciate it.”

“No trouble at all.”

With that, Carter was gone. James went back to his room where Henry was still sleeping.

He settled down into bed beside Henry. Yet he felt a tickle in his throat and couldn’t stop the urge to cough.

James quickly sat up in bed and covered his mouth with his hand as he coughed. He hoped the itchiness he felt would go away with each cough, but the discomfort was still there. This had to be a side effect that Carter had warned about.

He wasn’t surprised when his coughing fit woke up Henry.

“Are you all right?” He asked James. “I don’t like the sound of that cough.”

Henry was right. The cough sounded ugly…crackly and loud.

“It’ll pass. Don’t worry about me, Henry.”

James stood up, prepared to head to the bathroom to cough it out without disturbing Henry. Well, too late for that now considering Henry was up. But it was more to be courteous than anything else.

Henry gave him a look. “Don’t be ridiculous, James. Please don’t brush this off. I can get you something to drink. Get back into bed.”

James sighed, allowing Henry to coral him back under the sheets.

James didn’t know how long the cough would persist, but as he let out a particularly painful cough, he resigned himself to a not so great Sunday.

~ * ~

Adam stood over the man he should have killed months ago. The one who had abducted Henry’s friend, but who escaped due to being able to vanish without a trace. Based what the man had said, apparently he had time traveled. To where, Adam wished he knew. The only thing he cared about is that this time traveler, foolishly, had decided to return.

And Adam had been waiting for him.

But despite all that, Adam had done what he’d meant to do before. In a pool of his own blood, the abductor was dying at his feet.

“You’ll regret this. All of you will be sorry.”

Adam smirked, not putting much weight into the words of a dying man.

“Goodbye, Charlie. Or whoever you truly are.”

~ * ~

James was still feeling unwell that Monday morning. In resignation, he had to cancel his day’s appointments. Honestly, he felt that he could get through his work day. He’d hoped that this bad cough wouldn’t last the whole day. This side effect couldn’t be forever, right?

But it was due to Henry’s assistance that he get some rest and give himself time to recover. He wouldn’t take no for an answer.

He couldn’t help but feel frustrated, maybe to the point of anger, at choosing to take the antidote he’d been offered. But Carter had warned him, and he’d let him know of the even greater risks to come if he didn’t resolve his phantom symptoms of tuberculosis.

Although he put his foot down when Henry told him that if his cough continued to worsen, that he should go to the ER.

He did his best to reassure Henry that it wouldn’t come to that. But he promised that if he had trouble breathing that he would call for immediate help.

Having the day with little to occupy himself with, James recalled an old memory from his past life that he wished he could erase from his mind.

It was when he’d been visiting Oxford in the summer of 1889. His friend, Ollie, had convinced him to take the long trip to go there. James had accepted the invitation although it was not without a few reservations.

He’d met someone there.

He was his soulmate. And now, knowing Henry, James understood one important detail he’d missed that day another lifetime ago.

Henry Morgan had lied to him.

He had been the man he met in Oxford. A Henry from the future, he imagined, as the one he knew now gave no indication he’d traveled back in time. And that wasn’t possible in the present day after all. But decades, maybe centuries from now, with Henry living his immortal life…the idea of time travel could become a very real thing.

And then as to why Henry had lied to him… the memory replayed in his mind’s eye. With all that he was aware of now, James felt he had a clearer idea for the motivation behind what that Henry from the future had told him.

_He and Henry were on the Magdalen Bridge late at night. James wasn’t sure what to make of this strange man. But his curiosity had gotten the better of him. He wanted to learn more about this man who didn’t appear to dress in clothes common in this time. He’d worn a long wool coat with a scarf wrapped around his neck. He was dressed more for autumn than for summer._

_And Henry was his soulmate. He’d known from the moment he’d said the words, “Excuse me, I’m sorry.”_

_James couldn’t believe that he would meet his soulmate so far from home. Never had he imagined that those words he had on his forearm would be spoken before his 20th birthday. It was the last thing he had been thinking of, to meet the one he was destined to be with._

_Yet it hurt him when he realized Henry didn’t have the same reaction. That there was no look of surprise, no quick check to his forearm just to see the confirmation, to make sure he wasn’t dreaming._

_James felt numb at the realization that he was one of those people who didn’t have a perfect match. That his soulmate didn’t see James in the same way. At least based on his tattoo._

_Henry seemed to sense James’s sadness at the unexpected mismatch. He was all too friendly as he spent time with James. He told him his name was Henry Morgan, and that he was planning to teach at Oxford in the coming school year. James wasn’t sure that he believed him._

_But he was a great kisser. And the moments they spent together in private, secluded spots around campus were some of the happiest James had had in his life._

_And then it all fell apart three days later. That’s when Henry requested something terrible of him._

_“I need you to stab me with this dagger,” Henry asked him._

_He pulled out the dagger he was referring to. James stared in cold shock at the dagger then at Henry. Was he dreaming? Could this really be happening? Knowing that he wasn’t Henry’s soulmate had been hard enough to make peace with, but to hurt – not just that but murder – the man who was his soulmate was reprehensible. James thought he might as well kill himself – it would be the only thing to stop the terrible guilt he would always feel for committing this act._

_He was very ill, Henry had told him. And he couldn’t go on anymore. But he didn’t have the courage to do the act himself. He needed, even pleaded with James to do it. To kill him._

_“I am not a killer. I won’t be a part of this. I’m sorry you’re sick, but that’s still no reason to have me kill you.”_

_Henry grabbed his forearm, seeming to sense that James was going to leave. And he was not wrong. “I’m sorry. I know I am asking too much of you. But I need you to do this.”_

_“It’s late and I’m tired. Goodbye, Henry.”_

_He forced his arm away from Henry’s vice-like grip. “Perhaps you need to talk to someone. You’re clearly not sound of mind. And I’m not the right person to help you with that.”_

_Turning away from Henry, he tried to ignore what Henry said next._

_“Please, James. Please.”_

_He continued walking down the bridge._

_“I hate it too, James. That for some cruel reason, you are not my soulmate. And you have to live with that knowledge. That I’m the one you’re meant to be with, but Fate was not kind to you. To both of us. I love you, James. Please. If you care for me too, then you will give me peace. Please. All I want is peace, an end to this ailment. I’ll be in great pain in mere weeks, and I will die suffering from it. There’s nothing the doctors can do for me. Is that what you want for me, James? To pass away in pain? Please, James. I know you’re young, only nineteen, and you have your--” then Henry paused as if he found what he planned to say very difficult._

_Out of curiosity, James turned around to face Henry. He walked back to him, and noticed even in the darkness that Henry’s eyes glistened from unshed tears._

_James’s eyes narrowed. “Why did you stop speaking?”_

_“It’s a long story,” Henry told him, his answer weak. He was hiding something, but James didn’t have the energy to interrogate him about it._

_“Of course.”_

_Henry reached out to grab his hand this time. He pulled James closer to his own body, and kissed him like his life depended on it._

_“Please. You won’t be killing me. You’ll be saving me. The effect from the dagger will be immediate. I won’t be suffering. I promise. It’ll be all right.”_

_James only stared at him, mind numb and his ability to speak gone for the moment._

_Was this madness real?_

_Or was he having the most awful yet vivid dream?_

_He watched as if he were outside of his body as Henry put the dagger in his hand._

_“Why did you say you love me?” James asked, sounding distant even to his own ears._

_He wasn’t sure why he was asking that._

_“Because I do. It’s that simple.”_

_James looked down at the dagger, his mind not really processing what it was he was holding. He couldn’t think clearly. Something was tugging at his mind, attempting to convince him to use the dagger, to stab Henry with it._

_He shook his head, refusing to listen._

_“You’re the only one who can save me.” Henry told him softly, his voice a caressing whisper that almost set James at ease._

_He sighed. Maybe this would be the beginning of the end for him. There was no coming back from killing a soulmate._

_But maybe Henry was telling the truth. What if James was granting him mercy by sparing him a painful death?_

_Henry’s hand was over his own as James struck him, the sharp dagger piercing his abdomen._

_“Thank you, James Carter.”_

_Those were the last words he heard Henry say before his whole body turned into a big pile of ashes. No fire anywhere nearby to explain the sudden combustion._

_James didn’t remember dropping the dagger, only hearing the sound of the metal clattering to the ground._

_He collapsed to the ground before Henry’s ashes._

_“What have I done? What have I done? Oh God. What have I done?” He murmured to himself, repeating the question as if he would get an answer he could live with._

Looking back now, James believed it was more than the tuberculosis leading to his death in his past life. That the burden, the guilt of hurting and murdering his soulmate, had worn him down over the next seventeen years. Maybe he could have lived a little longer with the tuberculosis, but his emotional turmoil had weakened him more than his disease could ever have done on its own.

Now he was sure that Henry must have lived a very long time when he time traveled back to see James at Oxford in 1889. He hadn’t been sick. That was just the easier lie, James decided, that Henry thought he could handle. The truth of his immortality would have been too unbelievable to comprehend.

But in a way, Henry had been sick – of living his immortal life, the years stretching without end.

And unfortunately, James had been his only solution. The only one who could permanently end his life.

James could not personally relate to how Henry felt then. The weight of his immortality must have been beyond unbearable.

But still. It hadn’t been fair the burden Henry had placed on him. Especially when he’d known James, been aware that James would become a doctor and that killing someone was against his moral code. Even worse, the man he’d killed had been his soulmate.

For the rest of his life, through his studies, and practicing as a doctor; James had tried his best to put the dreadful event behind him. It was especially difficult when he met a man who looked like Henry Morgan and called himself that. James was at a loss with the remarkable resemblance. He had stabbed him, hadn’t he? He had seen his body turn into ashes without as much as a match.

But this Henry had seemed completely unaware of James’s past actions. And James hadn’t been this Henry’s soulmate either. There’d been no wide eyes, no surprise and automatic checking of the tattoo to confirm his belief. It had been like the final nail to his coffin. But James decided he had to accept that he was simply unlucky. He would have to be happy with surrounding himself with good friends to counteract the cruel twist Fate had dealt him.

So James had pretended to be all right, to be a friend to Henry. To be optimistic, to invite Henry into his life and insist on spending time with him so the man, who appeared to have no close family nearby, wouldn’t spend his nights alone with only medical texts for company.

James pretended to be all right during the entirety of his friendship with Henry. But when he became infected with tuberculosis, he couldn’t bear the lie anymore. He was growing physically weaker and with that, his game of pretend began to fell apart. The easy affection he showed toward Henry faltered as he pushed him away. He’d noticed Henry’s sad expression, his earnestness to help James, to save him when there was no miracle cure.

Badly, James had desperately wanted to shake him, confide in Henry that he’d met someone who was his identical twin, maybe even more than that, and that this man was his soulmate and he had killed him. And that maybe James deserved to die because of that. For not having the strength to defy that Henry’s pleading, to walk away with the dagger and refuse to see him ever again.

Instead, he just resigned himself to his fate. He let Henry take care of him, worry over him. James found peace that he’d found a close friend in Henry. That despite killing his soulmate, this Henry Morgan he really got to know as a fellow doctor and friend, was good enough for him. No matter what the tattoos dictated, James did get his soulmate.

In his current incarnation, he reassessed his relationship with Henry. It had only been a few months. But like in his past life, could he really live year after year with this secret of murder? Especially if he continued to be with Henry? Sleeping beside him every night? Kissing him? Making love to him with the knowledge that one day, Henry would ask the worst of his past self?

No. To save him the pain that may just kill him, James had to do the right thing. He needed to slow things down. They may be soulmates, but that didn’t mean they had to move fast and avoid the hard questions.

~ * ~

That night, James was anxious about confiding in Henry on the secret haunting his past life. It was a wonder he had managed to move on past the incident. Yet the memory was always present, threatening to engulf him with guilt.

“Henry, I have to tell you something important.”

“What is it, James? Is this regarding what Charlotte told you?”

James stopped, leaving a long pause before answering. He changed his mind. He couldn’t talk about that old memory. Not now. He was grateful that Henry gave him an out. He would tell him what he had long thought his sister hadn’t even noticed. A foolish belief James realized now.

“Yes it is. The ghost of my past life has been visiting me since I can remember. He was the one who brought the sedative for the man who had abducted me.”

“You mean James? He’s a ghost now?” Henry uttered, surprised.

“Yes,” James said, wondering if he was making a mistake. The James Henry knew was long gone, and seeing the ghost of him wouldn’t make the loss any easier. “When he told me to call him Carter, I of course questioned if there was a connection to my tattoo. If he had anything to do with James Carter. He assured me that one day I would understand.”

“You found out when you remembered your past life.”

James nodded. “He explained to me that I was his future incarnation and our souls are closely linked. He chose to stay in Purgatory to guide me during my life. According to Carter, most ghosts go to the final phase even after learning their souls will be reincarnated as humans. A lot of ghosts don’t like the tedious wait for incarnations to be born. He knew that this route was the harder one, but he went through with it anyway.”

“Is he here? Carter?” Henry asked, looking around hopefully.

To James, that stung. He flinched briefly with Henry appearing too distracted to notice. James wished Henry had seen it, had realized the effect his words had on him.

He could communicate with Carter silently – mind-to-mind – to ask him to come. But knowing Carter for years, he knew he wouldn’t want to talk to Henry. Although James personally thought that Carter really should. For over a century, the ghost was running away from the task that would bring him true peace. But no matter how many times James brought it up, his advice fell on deaf ears.

And now Henry wanted to see the ghost. James felt conflicted. He wanted to bring them together.

On the other hand, he felt frustrated, feeling like he wasn’t enough. And James was harshly reminded that the initial pull Henry had toward him was because of his past life.

True, he acted similarly. Seeing Henry for the first time, he drew more from his past life memories versus getting to know Henry in the present day. No matter the hypocrisy, the hurt still hit him hard.

Though fate decided they were soulmates, this relationship was fraught with complications from the beginning.

“No. I don’t know if I should have told you. I’m sorry, Henry. He doesn’t want to see you.”

“Then why did you tell me about him?”

“I thought you should know. After all, he is a part of my life.”

“No, you hesitated earlier. There was something else you were planning to tell me, but you told me about James’s ghost instead.”

“I don’t think I can. And besides, it’s not my secret to tell.”

“It’s Carter’s?”

James nodded. An old memory from his past life flashed against his mind, holding his attention. It was at Oxford after the event he’d rather forget.

“James, talk to me. You’re not acting like yourself. What happened?” Oliver said, concerned.

“Please leave. I need to be alone.”

“No, you’re my friend. I brought you thousands of miles from home so you could have a good time. And now you’re clearly unhappy. I want to help you. No matter how long I’ll have to sit here waiting for the truth.”

“It’s hard to talk about,” James admitted. He looked apologetic at Ollie.

Ollie grasped his shoulder. “You know the only way I can help you is if you let me,” he persisted.

“I don’t think I can. Not now. I still need to make my peace with it.”

“Make peace with what?” Ollie said carefully. “Is it do with me?”

James shook his head. “You should go.”

“I’m worried you’ll do something you’ll regret. I think I need to stay,” he told him, sounding stubborn about it. “James, I’m begging you, allow me to help you.”

James glared at him. He stood up and pointed his finger at him. “Don’t you ever say that. Don’t beg. Don’t.”

“I’m sorry, James. I take it back.”

James felt he couldn’t breathe. He went to the desk and in anger, he swept everything off it. “Go, Oliver. I won’t say it again.”

He hoped using his best friend’s full name, something he hadn’t done in a long time, would inspire him to leave him be.

“No. I’m staying. James, please.”

James heard Ollie approach him, pressing his hand upon his shoulder. “You don’t have to pretend with me, James.” He assured him. “I can handle it.”

Slowly he turned back around and faced Ollie. He fell apart then, collapsing to the floor, tears traitorously coming down his face.

“I can’t. I can’t,” James said again and again.

His friend sat down beside him, not speaking, but showing his support by being there with him. Even if James wasn’t the best company at the moment.

Though James hadn’t told him what was troubling him, the burden weighing heavily on him for hours now was a little lighter. Like Ollie had taken some of the burden on despite not understanding the true nature of it.

The memory faded away and James was brought back to the present.

“I can handle whatever you don’t want to tell me. If this bothers you so much, I want to share in the burden. Please, James,” Henry said earnestly.

“Not this, Henry. Never this. I’m sorry. I can’t give you what you want. Maybe these tattoos say we’re soulmates, but we’re not exactly like everyone else. Abigail had to have been your soulmate, not me. I think you should go.”

“I loved her deeply, but I know you are my soulmate, James. I want to be with you for the rest of your life.”

“I saw how you looked when I brought up Carter,” James reminded him. “You’re just waiting for the moment to talk to him. Even if he doesn’t want the same. I’m a pale imitation, lucky enough to be his incarnation and carry his life’s memories inside my head. I don’t think we should take this relationship any further.”

“James, why are you saying this now? I know you’re not the same person as him.”

“I don’t believe you,” James shot back sharply. “Leave now, Henry.”

“James.” Henry said, his voice hesitant.

“I can’t do this anymore. You need to go.”

“One day you will be ready,” Henry said in parting, sounding undeterred in the belief that James would reveal what he was keeping from him. “You won’t push me away this easily, Stephen,” he finished, using his birth name as a sort of peace offering James thought.

Unhappily, James watched him go.

He felt miserable. No matter his doubts, Henry was still his soulmate and he couldn’t believe he’d found the courage to make him leave. To end their relationship.

~ * ~


	3. Letting go

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the final chapter. Thank you to anyone who has read this story. 
> 
> Leave it to me to try my hand at a soulmate AU! for a rare pair. But I enjoyed writing about Henry and James's relationship here. All their happy moments and their low points. 

“You shouldn’t be awake now, Abe.” Henry half-heartedly scolded him when he returned home, feeling downtrodden.

He wasn’t in the mood to discuss his current state of his relationship with James. Especially if it was no longer a relationship.

It was just his luck, wasn’t it? After all these years, Henry finally found his true soulmate, and it fell apart all too soon.

“You don’t look good, Dad. What’s up?”

“I’m sorry, Abe, but I don’t feel up to discussing this now. I’m going to turn in for the night.”

“Is James all right? He didn’t have to go to the ER?”

Henry sighed. Abe deserved to at least know that. Since he knew about James’s past life and his premature death from a respiratory illness, of course Abe would worry that the same thing would befall James in this life.

Even if James had just suffered a bad cough. And there had been a fever during the previous night that fortunately broke by morning.

But that didn’t stop Henry from having been concerned either. Old memories of caring for an ailing James in those final days a century ago coming to the forefront.

“James will be fine. The coughing was the main problem, but that seems to have subsided. I appreciate your concern.”

“Good. I’m glad to hear that.”

Henry made to go upstairs, Abe’s voice stopped him.

“I’m not blind, you know. You wouldn’t be coming home for the night if something wasn’t wrong. Did you have a fight with James? You look sad, and I want to know why.”

Henry turned to look back at his son. “Perhaps tomorrow we’ll talk about it.” He maintained a tone of finality, hoping Abe would get the message that he really, truly, did not care to discuss this further.

At least until the morning.

Abe sighed, looking weary. “All right. All right,” he relented. “I’m backing down. I’ll go to bed too. Not a bad idea.”

“Yes, please do that. Goodnight, Abraham.”

“Night.”

~ * ~

Over breakfast the following morning, Henry confided in his son about what James had told him. And also, his belief that James was hiding something more from him. Something James hadn’t been willing to share that night.

“So James has had the ghost of his past life shadowing him since he was a boy?” Abe uttered in disbelief.

Henry nodded.

“But you believe he has an even greater secret he’s keeping from you?”

“Possibly one more painful if it is difficult for him to tell me about it. I wonder if this other secret has to do with his past life. When he was the James I had first become acquainted with.”

“You have to find out what he’s keeping from you. Otherwise neither of you can move forward. You deserve a chance to be with your soulmate for the rest of his life.”

Henry shook his head, feeling defeated. He had made a terrible mistake, and he couldn’t imagine James wishing to see him any time soon.

“I am in the wrong, Abe. When he told me about having contact with his past life, I sounded too eager to see him. I should have reacted better. I should have realized I’d hurt him by being enthusiastic about seeing his past life. That to him, maybe he wasn’t good enough for me. I understand if James doesn’t want to see me for a very long time.”

“You were reacting naturally, Dad. That man was a close friend of yours, so to have a chance to see him again – not just his incarnation – must have been a welcome surprise. Who can really prepare for news like that?”

Henry didn’t feel very reassured by Abe’s words.

“The problem remains that despite being soulmates, our long ago shared history makes our situation complicated.”

“Well that just means you have to work a little harder than other people. Everyone has their challenges, Henry. You can’t give up. You’ve gone through a lot more in your life than anyone should. After all the hardships and struggles, you can’t lie down and let your one and only chance at a true soulmate slip through your fingers.”

“Yes, I know that. What’s worse though is James’s past life is not interested in seeing me. And I’m certain that James was telling me the truth on that count. I wonder if this secret James is burdened with has to do with his old life. That this is the reason why this past life doesn’t want to speak to me.”

“You have to ask him, Henry. It’s that simple.”

“Not now. I think it wise to give him some space.”

“All right. I understand – a few days will give you both clearer heads.”

“Thank you, Abraham.” Henry told him sincerely.

Henry left for work, his heavy heart somewhat lighter than previously. Talking it out with his son did help, but the strained state of his relationship with James still pained him.

~ * ~

James looked up from his laptop.

“Abe, you know you didn’t need an appointment to see me.”

Abe shrugged. “Well lately, I have been feeling a little short of breath every so often,” he said, waving his hand dismissively. “With how it is between you and Henry now, I was surprised you let me come in. You had to know I’d want to talk about the two of you. He’s been miserable these last few days after the fight you and him had.”

“Abe, I understand you only want your father to be happy. I just don’t think that now I can give that to him.”

“Wild guess -- it’s complicated?”

James didn’t look him in the eye. Instead he continued to type away on his laptop.

“Henry told me about your past life, how he’s a ghost who visits you. And here I thought I’ve seen everything. Or heard I guess would be more accurate.”

“He’s not wrong.” James said, though he still distracted himself with his work. 

“And he also told me this ghostly past life didn’t want to see him. Why is that?”

“I don’t want to speak for him. I was only relaying what his wishes were.”

“You have his memories. Aren’t you two essentially the same person?”

James gave Abe a careful look. “There are limits. I may remember my past life, but the man I used to be is a separate entity as a ghost. I have no absolute override about revealing his secrets. If he wants to confide in Henry, then that is up to him.”

“But if he gives you his consent to tell Henry what you’re keeping from him, then you would, right?”

“Yes, I suppose so,” James agreed, however reluctantly.

“Thank you. I’m glad to hear that.”

Abe smiled at him, expressing his gratitude. He was a little alarmed when James looked back at him, not appearing to recognize him. He peered at Abe in confusion.

“James? Are you all right?”

James shook his head. He didn’t look puzzled anymore, and he seemed to recognize Abe.

The momentary change in mental status had passed. At least Abe hoped it was temporary.

“I’m good. Just cobwebs… a lot on my mind. I appreciate you coming, Abe.”

Yet Abe couldn’t help leaving his office without feeling ill at ease.

Something wasn’t right.

~ * ~

James got home late, and he was surprised to see who had come to visit.

“You’re here earlier than usual, Carter.” 

The ghost of his past life looked grim. That made James very uneasy. “Yes well this is a troubling predicament right now.” But then he paused, standing up and peering at James. “But first, how are you doing? After the antidote?”

James brushed it off. “I’m fine. I was sick for a little bit, but that passed.”

“Good. Good. I’m glad.”

James really wasn’t liking Carter’s somber mood. It was making him unpleasantly nervous.

“What is it? Just tell me.”

“I think your former abductor, the time traveler, has traveled back in time. He has killed one of your ancestors when she was only a child.”

“What? I thought he was dead! Are you telling me he’s a ghost? Even with that, how was he not stopped?”

Carter nodded, looking defeated. “Yes, he is a ghost regrettably. And those who deal with problems like this were too late. I wish I could give you better news.”

James sighed. His pressed his hand to his forehead. He was getting an awful headache. “Who was it? Which ancestor?”

“Mary, the one who survived the Titanic. Only now she never went on that ship.”

“So it won’t be just me who will be erased from existence? I’m really hoping this is a nightmare and I’ll wake up soon.”

James thought of Charlotte and Avery, his parents…the people he loved and cared for would cease to exist. All because some half-mad time-traveling abductor was hell-bent on hurting him.

“I’m sorry. I want to help, to provide you with an answer to keep you alive. But it’s beyond my power to go back in time to prevent Mary’s untimely death.”

“I did have a memory lapse earlier today.”

Carter nodded. “That’s a warning sign. Soon, you will begin to vanish, until…”

“I’ll disappear completely. Great. Am I supposed just sit and wait for the inevitable?”

“Perhaps you should see Henry. I’m aware you two have had a falling out. Even if he’ll forget you, it may help if you confide in him. Tell him what happened in your past life, in my past.”

“That sounds like cheating. Telling him about Oxford only for him not to remember any of it…”

“I know. It’s not an ideal situation. But maybe you will feel better knowing you told him about what you did. It has been hard for me to get past the guilt, it still is, but we both have to understand -- it was an impossible situation. I doubt Henry would have let it go. He would have kept trying to persuade me.”

“Yes. It was impossible.” James said quietly. “All right. I’ll speak to Henry.”

~ * ~

Wringing his hands in nervousness, James took a deep breath before he called Henry. With the impending threat of being erased from existence, he knew he wouldn’t be able to get any sleep in. 

After all, he wasn’t sure whether he’d even exist come morning.

No, best to take care of this now while he still had the chance.

“Henry?” He said when he heard the call connect. 

What should he say? The last talk they had had ended badly. James couldn’t simply say he wanted to stop by for a chat.

“James? What’s wrong?” He heard Henry’s concerned voice.

James closed his eyes. The concern was making this harder.

“Henry, I know our last conversation went poorly…”

“Yes, but I imagine you wouldn’t call at midnight if it wasn’t important, James. Or should it be Stephen?”

The old memory flashed across his mind’s eye. “What have I done? What have I done? Oh God. What have I done?”

He almost dropped his cellphone as he remembered one of the lowest points of his past life. Not long after recalling the whole memory, getting bits and pieces of it was the last thing he needed now.

“No, James is okay. You’re right, this is important. Would this be a good time to come by? I don’t think this can wait until morning.”

“Of course, James. I’ll be waiting.”

~ * ~

Full of anxiety, James entered Abe’s Antiques. Henry was waiting for him in the store. He led him up to the apartment so they could talk.

Henry offered him a cup of tea, which he accepted gratefully. James sat on the two-seater couch while Henry took the chair on the opposite side of the coffee table.

“What is it, James?”

James didn’t answer right away, choosing to peer into his cup and organize his thoughts. His heart was beating far too fast.

Calm down, he told himself. You can do this.

“Do you recall me mentioning Ollie? A friend of mine from my past life?”

“Yes. The one who went to Oxford.”

James nodded. He sighed. “That’s him. He offered me a chance to go with him to England. To go see where he was studying. Maybe to get into a bit of trouble, too, I guess,” he said, smiling a little as he remembered his sometimes rebellious friend. “I was 19 then.”

“And did you? Cause trouble?”

Another memory flash came unbidden: Henry’s hand was over his own as James struck him, the sharp dagger piercing his abdomen.

James frowned. Why was his mind being cruel to him like this? Making him remember an event he wished he could forget?

“It wasn’t my intention,” he told Henry. “Listen, what I need to tell you is that I met my soulmate at Oxford.”

“I remember you telling me your soulmate died before you met them. When you were--”

“Nineteen, yes. I’m sorry, Henry. I wasn’t being honest with you then. The truth is hard to confess. I don’t know if you’ll believe me if I tell you even now.”

Henry leaned forward, reaching out to him and grasping James’s hand.

“Try. Please, James. I’ll listen.”

“I met you at Oxford. A version of you from the future. You were my soulmate in my past life, Henry. But I wasn’t yours back then. It was not easy accepting this, but the tattoos don’t lie.”

“I’m sorry. I wish you didn’t have to go through that. But what you’re suggesting – you believe in the future, I’ll have access to technology that’ll allow to travel in time?”

James shrugged. “I suppose. You’re immortal, Henry. After all you’ve seen, all the technological advances, then it’s possible in a hundred years, time travel could be as commonplace as cellphones are today.”

“You have a point there. And what happened? I assume I returned to my time?”

James shook his head sadly. “We spent time together for a few days. But then one night, you—I can’t speak for your frame of mind at the time, Henry.”

“What is it, James?”

He set down his near empty cup of tea. He noticed some fingers on his left hand were starting to vanish. The countdown was beginning.

He didn’t have much time left.

James cleared his throat. He knew it’d be futile to attempt to hide his alarm. This was Henry after all, a master at making observations.

He stood up. “I should go. I don’t think I’m ready to tell you everything. I apologize, Henry.”

“No, James. You’re here now. Just finish the story. You will feel better when you do. It won’t help you to put it off for another day.”

He grabbed James’s right hand – not disappearing yet thank goodness – stopping James from leaving.

“You ask something awful of me, Henry. You ask that I kill you with that dagger. The pugio.”

“Oh James… if I had known when I’d met you in your past life… did the pugio work?”

“I was telling the truth that my soulmate died. I just lied about not meeting him. You pleaded and pleaded with me, Henry. And when it was done, you were a pile of ashes at my feet.”

“I feel terrible for doing that to you.”

He removed Henry’s hand from his own. “You must have grown tired of your immortality. To where you were willing to get me involved. Somehow you found out I would be the one to give you the end you were seeking.”

“Perhaps I found out from what you told me now?”

“Self-fulfilling prophecy,” James muttered under his breath in resignation. 

So this was his fault in a way too.

“Yes, so you can understand why the ghost of my past life is not ready to speak with you. The memory of what I did, what he did all those years ago… it’s hard to look you in the eye and not remember that event.”

His left hand was now completely gone, and his right hand was missing fingers as they faded away.

“I have to go, Henry,” James said abruptly. “I’m sorry…but I really have to…”

He escaped down the stairs before Henry could give a response.

Henry was still processing what he’d been told, what he’d learned about his future. It was wrong to leave him like that.

But James didn’t want Henry watching him disappear. He didn’t want to see Henry forgetting him. At least he’d still remember James’s past life. A small relief. 

~ * ~

“James! James! Stephen…” Henry called after him.

He’d been caught by surprise when James had been so eager to leave.

Henry rushed downed the stairs, out of the apartment, and into the store proper. 

But James was long gone.

A memory hit him then. One he couldn’t remember no matter how he tried. He was too young here, only a baby. But Henry was sure this wasn’t a memory he’d ever had.

He saw his mother holding him, looking in deep worry at the bare forearm on his younger self. The area that should be marked with the tattoo Henry now had there.

His mother turned to his father. “Henry doesn’t have a tattoo. To be born without the first words of his soulmate… how can we let him live his life like this, dear?”

“I don’t know. We have to make the best of it.”

Henry couldn’t bear to let the memory continue.

He rushed out of the shop, barely feeling the raindrops on his skin. It was raining outside, a half-hearted drizzle really. Henry didn’t care about being caught out in the rain. 

He had to find James.

Only a block away, Henry found him.

He looked strange as he sat on a bench and stared at his hands, an air of resigned anticipation about him. His body appeared not to look as solid as it should be. It was like Henry imagined a ghost to appear – as if they were made of mist.

He took a seat beside him. “James, what’s wrong? Why are you not heading home?”

James looked startled at his presence, then his face fell. “It’s hard to explain,” he admitted. 

Henry frowned, and then he peered down at James’s hands, wondering why his attention was on them.

He soon understood why. Where Henry believed his hands should be, they were gone. Vanished away as if by strong wind.

“You should leave, Henry. I don’t have much time.”

James stood up and turned away from Henry. He looked like he intended to walk away, but he only made a few steps forward before he stopped.

Henry thought of the odd memory he’d had – where he had been born without a tattoo with the first words his soulmate would say to him.

“No,” said Henry, his tone defiant, firm. He wouldn’t leave James now. Whatever was happening to him, Henry would not let him be alone.

He left the bench and put his hand on James’s shoulder.

“I’m not letting you go, James.”

James turned around without Henry needing to coax him to. He looked weary, but he faced Henry all the same, his green eyes making contact with Henry’s.

“Henry, I--”

He imagined that James was about to say something ridiculous like he was ceasing to exist. That this is why Henry had a vision of a potential life where he would never have a soulmate.

Because his old friend had never been reborn.

But if James believed that apparently time travel was a real development in the future, then Henry accepted the reality of someone being able to cease to exist.

Yet Henry wouldn’t accept James never being a part of his life. Not if he could do something about it.

What that was, he wasn’t sure.

So Henry did what first came to mind. He placed both hands on either side of James’s face. He kissed him, so hard that he thought he would leave a bruise. But he didn’t want to stop, not even to breathe. 

Henry wanted James to stay and he would hold on to him until the end. If it came to that.

James returned the kiss, though Henry could feel his sadness, his resignation to a predicament he found no solution to.

A tear from James fell on Henry’s nose, but with the persistent drizzle, it was almost missed. If Henry hadn’t been tuned in, as worried about James as he was, to James and his every movement then he may have dismissed it.

After breaking the kiss, James said, “I’m sorry.”

Henry shook his head. He wouldn’t hear his apology for something he appeared to have no control over.

He took out a handkerchief, raising his hand to James’s face to wipe away his tears. 

James sucked back a breath. “Henry… my hands,” he sounded baffled and relieved too. He took the handkerchief from Henry, gripping it tightly with his right hand. It was as if he was trying to prove to himself that his hand was really back and wouldn’t disappear again.

Henry looked down and saw his hands reappear, as solid as Henry expected them to be. And all of James was under the same change. He wasn’t fading away anymore. 

Daring to hope that James would be all right now, Henry smiled at him, the smile growing wider as he saw James’s relief pass over his face.

As the light rain continued on, Henry wrapped his arms around James, hugging him, and feeling James’s beating heart against his chest.

“You’re not going anywhere, James. I won’t forget you. No matter what.”

Henry knew they still had a lot of challenges ahead. He still had to properly work through this possible future he would have where he would ask too much of James’s past life. 

But for now, in the present, he and James had found their soulmates in one another. 

And Henry was going to cling to this beautiful feeling of happiness for as long as he could. 

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ The End ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have to admit that the scene where James recalls the memory with future!Henry from his past life was particularly emotional to write. And also, how he believed the terrible thing he had done was a contributing factor to his death years later. The tuberculosis may have physically weakened him, destroying his lungs, but the memory of killing the man who was his soulmate destroyed his heart and soul... 
> 
> I felt bad for putting all that on James.
> 
> Again, thank you for reading. Comments/kudos are much appreciated. :-)

**Author's Note:**

> To those who read the previous installment when it was first posted, I have since changed the name of James's current incarnation. It's Stephen now instead of Philip (I've made the edits in the first story). It'll remain Stephen for each story in this universe.


End file.
